


Small Moments

by MWolfe13



Series: Tropes&Fandoms2020 [4]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Secret Relationship, Tropes&Fandoms2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23242723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MWolfe13/pseuds/MWolfe13
Summary: When a relationship is secret, sometimes the small moments are all you have.
Relationships: Éomer Éadig/Lothíriel
Series: Tropes&Fandoms2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661083
Kudos: 32
Collections: Tropes & Fandoms 2020





	Small Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tropes & Fandoms 2020 on Melting Pot FanFiction
> 
> Regular Square: Secret Relationship
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, just dipping a brief toe in this sandbox.

Lothíriel of Dol Amroth watched him from her place next to her father. He was speaking to one of his men, the two laughing over something one must have said. It was another celebratory ball, one of many that had been happening since the end of the war. It seemed every noble felt they needed to throw one, every family needed to prove they still could.

Including her own.

She’d thrown everything into the planning of this party, pleased to take part in something that had nothing to do with war. Her father had left all the details in her hands, trusting her to make the night enjoyable while not being overly extravagant. She’d strived to bring in the comforts that made Dol Amroth home, and she was sure she’d succeeded. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Amrothos was being his usual charming self, Erchirion had snuck out a little bit ago, and her father was having them both play host for the duration. The only people missing were her brother Elphir and his wife, but they were ruling Dol Amroth until their father returned. 

Éomer laughed again, this time much closer than before. She wished she could join him, but she couldn’t think of a good enough excuse to give her father so that she could plaster herself to his side for the rest of the night. He would enjoy it, she was sure, but to the rest of society, they were nothing but acquaintances. He was a friend of her father and brothers, nothing more. Perhaps, one day, they could come out into the open, but not until his country had recovered. 

Éomer caught her eyes, his brow lifting in question, head tilting towards the side doors.

“Don’t you think, my lady?”

“Hmm?” Lothíriel focused on the men around her, tried not to wince at the side-ways glance her father shot her. “I do apologize, my lords. I think I need some air.”

Imrahil frowned at her, but there was concern in his eyes. “I’ll get Amrothos or Erchirion to accompany you.” He looked around, lips pulling down further when he realized one of his sons was nowhere to be seen. 

She waved the offer away. “Don’t worry about it, Papa. Amrothos is likely drunk by this time, and I only want to take in the night sky for a bit.” She gave their crowd a quick but graceful curtsey. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She rushed off before anyone could stop her, or her father could offer to go with her himself. The skirts of her dress swirled about her as she left the room, taking a deep breath of the fresh air before continuing down the path that would lead her to a place of seclusion. Lothíriel hadn’t realized how stuffy it was in the ballroom before the night breeze provided much-needed coolness. She shivered at the light breeze, her body covered in a light coating of sweat from being among so many bodies in one space. She made a note to hold the ball outside the next time she planned one.

Éomer joined her not long after she stopped. He must have followed her almost as soon as she’d slipped out of the room. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, his lips pressing carefully against the smooth hair on her head. “I thought you’d never make your excuses.”

Lothíriel smiled, relaxing contently in his embrace. “I have about ten minutes before my father sends someone after me.” Éomer grumbled at this, but she only chuckled, turning so that her nose was buried in his shirt. She loved the smell of him; horses, leather, and her favorite parts of the outdoors. “I’d be a bad host otherwise, my love.”

He sighed in acceptance, tightening his arms around her. “If I could, I’d go to your father right now and ask him for your hand.”

Lothíriel wanted to remind him that he  _ could _ indeed do exactly that, but they’d had this conversation already. He wouldn’t bring her to his country until they were past the hard times recovering from this war. He was dead set on that decision, stubborn in a way that screamed Horselord. So she didn’t remind him, simply giving him a gentle smile when he looked down at her. “I know, but for now, we have these moments.”

Éomer brought a hand up her side, his fingers sending shivers down her spine as they skimmed the fabric of her dress until he was brushing his thumb across her cheek. “Our love will not remain a secret forever, Lothíriel. I promise you.”

Something must have shown on her face, for him to try and reassure her. She turned fully in his arms, rising on her toes to be able to reach his lips. “I know.” She pressed her lips to his, splaying her hands across his chest. Éomer slipped his tongue into her mouth, the hand at her cheek sliding to her hair.

“Lothíriel, where are you?”

They pulled apart instantly, Lothíriel smoothing down her dress as her father’s voice. He wasn’t far. She bit her lip, eyes resigned as she took in a visibly frustrated Éomer. “You’d better go. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He stepped forward, grabbing her hands and bringing them up to his lips for a quick kiss. “Tomorrow.” And then he was fading into the shadows. He wouldn’t leave until she was with her father.

“There you are,” Imrahil said as he came into her line of sight. His brows were furrowed in concern. “Are you alright? You left rather quickly. I wanted to check on you earlier, but Aragorn wanted a word.”

Lothíriel wanted to sigh and tell her father she was not alright, that he’d interrupted a private moment. She smiled slightly instead, patting his arm in reassurance. “I’m fine, Papa, only tired. I’ve been running around all day in preparation for tonight.”

“Of course. You did a splendid job, my daughter. I’ve been the proud father all night, accepting compliments on your behalf.” He placed her arm in the crook of his elbow. “Let’s say our farewells, and then I’ll walk you to the house. Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

“I thought about taking Moonlily for a ride.”

“I swear you spend more time with that horse than you used to.” His look turned to one of contemplation. “I should really introduce you to Éomer again. I think you’d get along. Maybe you could bond over your love of horses.”

“Oh?” Lothíriel forced herself to be calm, imitating curiousness instead of eagerness at her father’s words. “If what I’ve heard about the Horselords is true, I’m sure we would get along. I hear he is a good man.”

“One of the best,” Imrahil agreed. He nodded to himself, seeming to come to a decision. “We’ll have him over for dinner this week. It’s about time you got to know him as the rest of us do.”

“Of course.” Lothíriel didn’t betray her excitement lest her father become suspicious. She heard leaves rustle behind them, knew he’d heard every word. This was a boon they would both be happy to take, to be able to see each other with her father’s knowledge and approval. It may not be the friendship he had in mind, but they’d be able to be together in the open, even if their more intimate moments still had to be kept hidden.

She couldn’t wait, and she had a feeling neither could he.


End file.
